


How Much It May Storm

by BlossomsintheMist



Series: Steve/Tony Kinktober 2017 [26]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Tony, Bottom Tony Stark, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Dom Steve, Dom Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle Dom Steve, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Sub Tony, Sub Tony Stark, Subspace, Top Steve, Top Steve Rogers, gentle dom Steve Rogers, mention of enemas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:19:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16831591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomsintheMist/pseuds/BlossomsintheMist
Summary: “Doing good?” Steve murmured, and Tony nodded, his head spinning, his body throbbing, aching for something, needy and hot.  He ground his hips down against Steve’s fingers, looked up at him questioningly. “You want me inside?” Steve murmured. His fingers petted at Tony’s cheek gently, slid over the back of his neck, petting through his hair, and squeezed. “You ready for that, mister?”Written for Day Twenty-Seven of Kinktober: Orgasm Denial.





	How Much It May Storm

**Author's Note:**

> None of the prompts for this day spoke to me, so I switched this one in from Day Eleven.
> 
> “What do I care how much it may storm  
> I’ve got my love to keep me warm.”
> 
> ― Irving Berlin

The cage felt heavy, tugging Tony’s cock and balls down between his legs as he rubbed at it through the silky fabric of his panties, feeling the smooth metal, cooler than his skin, through the silk, knowing the bulge of the cage, the shape of it, the mesh pattern of the steel, was visible under the clinging panties. It was always a strange feeling to rub at himself through the cage, feel pressure and a slight tease of sensation but nothing else, the way the cage dragged him down, the metal and weight and pull of it making him constantly hyper-aware of the way his cock was locked up, contained. It fit snugly, but didn’t compress him; it was comfortable to wear, and actually made him look bigger in his panties as he rubbed at it, at himself, creating a more dramatic bulge under the soft silk. Steve had told him that he wanted Tony to be comfortable in whatever cages they used, first and foremost, then smiled at him, caressing the underside of Tony’s cock, just under the head, and said, “So I can keep you in it just as long as I want, right, Tony?” and Tony had shivered, moaned, pushed up into his hand, and said, “Yes, yes, honey, please,” hot all over just thinking about it.

He moved to straddle Steve, and Steve’s warmth immediately bled into him as Tony spread his thighs out wide, feeling the stretch in his hips as he settled down over Steve’s strong, muscular thighs, his legs. Steve looked at him, licking his bottom lip, already looking breathless as he ran his hands up and over Tony’s thighs, rubbing gently, massaging against the muscle. “How’s that feeling?” he murmured, rubbing his thumbs deeply into Tony’s muscles, kneading gently but firmly. “You like that, being locked up for me?”

“Yes,” Tony said, and it came out raw and honest. He rubbed himself with both hands through his panties, settling them along the weight of it, against his shaft, squeezed and rubbed, rocking up into it, reveling in the feeling of the smooth steel around his cock, the tight constraint, the way he could feel his own hands, the silk, but almost distantly, referred, just the feeling as his cock wanted to get hard, started to struggle, aching sweetly. He kind of loved the feeling of the smooth heavy metal, against his sensitive skin. “It feels really good,” he said. “I’ve been, I’ve been thinking about this all day, hon. Just having it on me, I—I.” He swallowed, hefted it in his hands, lifting it against both his palms, presenting the heft of it, the jut against the silk, in his silken panties.

“Such a good boy,” Steve murmured, reaching out to stroke his palm over the top of it, through the fabric. Tony shivered, breathed out and let his eyes slide closed. Steve’s hand was warmer than his, broad and powerful and strong, and he felt the warmth of it even through the cage as he closed it over the cage, Tony’s cock, through the silk, rubbed gently. “You like this so much. Did you think about me while you cleaned yourself out? Are you all nice and clean inside?”

“Yes,” Tony said, softly. “Yes, I, I thought about you, Steve. Thought about you, like this, just like this.”

“Mmm,” Steve said, gently stroking his thumb over the slit of Tony’s cock where it was just able to be touched through the cage, through the soft silk. Tony had chosen a soft shade of lavender-blue silk, because it was a color Steve liked to see on him, because chastity always made him feel like—like he should play it up, with soft chaste colors, like being locked in the cage somehow made him purer, pure for Steve in a way that hardly made sense at all. Tony moaned, feeling pleasure shiver through him, from just that, down through his cock where it was held snugly in the metal. Steve rubbed at him until he was leaking precome, panting, shivering as his cock wanted to get hard and couldn’t manage it, then subsided, feeling the clinging wetness as he leaked precome out of his slit, bleeding through the silk, making it wet and sticky until he could feel how wet the fabric was under Steve’s thumb, feel the wet spot he was making in his own panties.

“Oh,” Tony gasped out, breathlessly, feeling warm all over, that clenching heat in his belly, thrumming under his skin. He swallowed, swallowed again, couldn’t seem to get his breath. When Steve pulled his thumb away, there was a glistening thread of sticky wetness between the pad of it and the soft wet spot he’d left, visibly soaking through his panties, and Tony moaned, feeling hot and trembling all over. “Please,” he whispered, and he didn’t even know what he was asking for, begging for, just that he needed it, needed something, needed Steve.

“Tell me how you cleaned up for me, Tony,” Steve murmured softly, now stroking his thumb along the underside of Tony’s caged cock, leaving sticky wetness there.

“I, I,” Tony tried to think. “I did two, two enemas, with solution. It took a long time? About two hours. But, uh, you, you knew that. Sorry. I, uh, I should be really clean, though, honey. I let it go all the way in, uh, both times.” He’d done a fresh wax, too, applied lotion, so he should be all nice and clean and smooth for Steve. He hadn’t taken the cage off, though, couldn’t—Steve wore the key around his neck, Tony could see it, nestled coyly against his skin, almost hidden behind his dogtags on their chain, and the lock was one Tony had designed; there really was no getting it off without the key where it fit tight and snug against his cock, against his body. Steve would take it off later, wash Tony’s cock, check it over gently, like he did for Tony every night when Tony was locked up like this. Tony looked forward to it, not for the time out of the cage, because it wasn’t like he was allowed to come then, either, not when they were doing this, but because of the gentle care Steve always showed, the way it felt being washed clean and fondled by Steve’s strong hands, or the way Steve would watch and help while Tony did it.

“That’s my good, clean fella,” Steve said, still fondling the metal encased underside of Tony’s shaft gently, through the silk.

“Thank you,” Tony murmured, and it came out simple and sincere, and he felt a wave of heat travel over his face.

“Let me see,” Steve said, smiling up at him, already flushed all over, sounding a little breathless. He slid his thumb over the top of it, patted Tony’s caged cock gently.

“Y-yeah,” Tony breathed out, moved immediately to obey, pulling at the soft laces holding his panties together on either side until they pulled free and he could tug off the soft little scrap of silk, revealing the heavy metal cage pulling him down between his legs, his high tight balls with their metal ring encircling them at the base, holding them snug against the cage, too. He dropped his panties on a nearby sofa cushion, then leaned forward, let his own fingers skim down over the cage, braced one hand on Steve’s shoulder. “How’s it look?”

Steve’s eyes were fixed on the cage, and he was biting his bottom lip, sucking on it, rubbing his hand on the caged underside again until Tony was shuddering. “So, so pretty, Tony,” he murmured, voice going low and deep and sex-rough and more than a little New York, and there was a flush spreading hot and red down over his face, his neck, his chest, down over his nipples, his cock already hard and bobbing, leaking so much precome it was sliding down over the shaft, the foreskin, making it glisten. “You’re so sweet, all locked up for me, aren’t you? So good and obedient.” He slid his fingers, his palm, gently up and down the base, making Tony shiver, making him leak a little more wet precome. He could see it bead up at his slit, fall slowly to splatter onto Steve’s wrist. Steve smiled softly, licked his bottom lip. “And you still love my hand on you so much, sweetheart,” he said. “Just look at you, all wet. Leaking and sweet for me.”

“Y-yeah,” Tony said, self-conscious, on a little self-deprecating laugh, feeling hot all over, flushed. “I, I guess I am, sugarpie. It still feels,” he had to lick his bottom lip, take a deep breath, because despite the reduced sensation, the confining metal, it felt _so_ good, somehow, “still feels good, honey.”

“Good,” Steve said, softly. “Good, Tony, that’s good.” He reached up, played lightly with the visible lock, though there were more mechanisms, inside, keeping it carefully secure, impossible to get off without Steve’s key. “Even locked up, I want you to feel good, mister. It’s not too tight, or pinching at all? Your cock is all comfortable locked up like this?”

“Yes,” Tony breathed. It was tight, constricting, and he ached if his cock wanted to get hard, but it really was comfortable, no pinching, just that constant, gentle squeeze that grew tight and controlling whenever his cock struggled helplessly, hopelessly, to get erect. “It’s comfortable. Feels good. Feels fine.”

“Good,” Steve said again, hefting Tony’s caged cock gently, as if feeling the heavy weight against his palm, and Tony felt himself go warm, a tingling twinge of warm humiliation twisting hot and tight in his stomach at the thought that it was probably much heavier, much more present, than Steve was used to feeling with his cock most of the time. (He wondered if Steve would like it if Tony fucked him with it on. Maybe he’d ask, later in the week, since they’d agreed on a week with Tony in chastity, this time, and this was only the first day.) “Let me know if it’s not, even for a few seconds, okay?” Steve murmured, rubbing gently at the metal over the base of Tony’s cock.

“I will,” Tony promised, smiled at him. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Steve said, and gave Tony two, three, long strokes over the smooth metal, like he would over his cock, leaving Tony shivering with the sensation, vividly aware of the pressure, the whisper of warmth even through the smooth, confining metal. “That’s perfect, Tony.” His hands slid back, squeezed at Tony’s thighs, rubbed gently over them, massaged, kneading, at the curves of Tony’s ass, making him shiver again, suck in his breath, at the sensation, the pleasure that sent through him, the way it made his cock throb in the cage. “I’d like to get you ready to ride me,” he murmured. “Slick you up, work you open for my cock. Get that clean little hole all wet with me. How does that sound to you, Tony?” He squeezed Tony’s cheeks, pulled them apart, pressed a thumb softly, suggestingly, against the smooth rim of Tony’s hole, still tight despite the long enemas he’d taken that had already relaxed him a bit inside.

Tony gave a soft, moaning groan, his cock already throbbing insistently in the cage just at Steve’s words. “That sounds good, sweetie,” he murmured. “It sounds really good.”

Steve beamed at him, smiled up at him. “That’s good, Tony,” he murmured. “That’s so good. You’re so good for me.” He slid his hands up, over Tony’s ass, his hips, slid them down over his groin, let his thumbs slide gently, pressing soft, against Tony’s neatly trimmed pubic hair, framing his caged cock, then slid them up again, over Tony’s belly, up over his sides, thumbed gently at his nipples.

Tony smiled, feeling a warm glow of pleasure sweep over him at that, from the top of his head on down like a prickling wave of warmth. Steve had said good, that that was good, so he was doing well. He was making Steve happy. So far, at least. And Steve’s hands on his body, on his nipples, felt good, coaxing warm, soft pleasure up against them, making them tingle and warm until he felt a little more wet precome slick over the tip of his cock. “Can I,” he said, and swallowed. “Can I do anything for you, though?” Maybe he could touch Steve, or maybe Steve would want to use his mouth? His mouth felt wet, eager, tingling, just at the thought. “I could blow you,” he offered.

“That sounds so good,” Steve murmured, sliding his hands back down over Tony’s sides, “but maybe later, all right? I want to work you open first, use your tight little hole.” His fingers petted down over the small of Tony’s back, slid down to rub there, massaging lightly, in slow circles, over Tony’s rim, not pushing in, just rubbing back and forth, and Tony moaned, felt his mouth open, wet, felt his eyes flutter, and then Steve’s other hand was coming up, curving against Tony’s jaw, stroking gently, pushing gently at Tony’s lower lip with his thumb, then pushing inside. Tony closed his mouth, sucking softly on it, and Steve sighed, his lashes fluttering now. “I might have your mouth after,” he murmured, and Tony moaned, sucking, nodded his head, encouraging, “but right now I want to watch you, all right?”

Tony nodded, sucking on Steve’s thumb a little more assiduously, playing his tongue over the nail, against the pad, grateful for the weight on his tongue, the soft way Steve’s thumb pet over the top of it in Tony’s mouth, as Steve picked up the lube from beside them with his other hand, leaving Tony’s rim feeling tingling and sensitive from Steve’s earlier massaging.

Being in chastity, having his cock locked up, constrained at Steve’s pleasure, not for his own, always seemed to make Tony more aware of any attention paid to his back door. It wasn’t his favorite form of sex, receiving-wise, but he didn’t mind it, either, and with Steve, attention to his anus, to his prostate, had taken on a new kind of excitement for him—the massive, impossible pressure and thickness and fullness of Steve’s dick inside him, the patient way Steve would curl his fingers and rub at Tony’s prostate, smiling at him as Tony’s breath went uneven at the pleasure and his hips jerked back on Steve’s fingers, needy for the press and rub of them on that sensitive place inside. But being in chastity made him, well, focus on that more, the idea of being penetrated, of having Steve down his throat, in his mouth, or deep inside him, pushing inside his ass, opening Tony wide for him, taking him deep, made him ache to be penetrated, needy to have that firm pressure on his prostate, feeling something inside, as if to make up for the lack of stimulation on his cock. Like this he wanted Steve to take him, to fuck him, to make him feel warm and aching and full inside, burning with the stretch like from a good workout, give him that stimulation and pleasure even if Tony couldn’t come, to feel Steve come inside him, wet and full, and feel like he’d done a good job for him, that pleasure suffusing all through his body and almost better than feeling it himself.

When Steve coated his fingers in lube and returned one lube slick finger to Tony’s hole, rubbing it gently around the muscle, making Tony tremble at the cool slickness of the lubricant, it felt vivid and intense, made him moan. “Shh, that’s it,” Steve murmured, sucking on his own bottom lip again. “God, you’re so smooth and velvety, your _skin_ , Tony.” He rubbed gently the rim with two fingers now, massaging the tight muscle. Tony was still just a little open, a little relaxed, from his clean up, and he felt shivery and hot as Steve rubbed wet, slick lube all around and over his sensitive skin, making him feel all the more aware of that part of his body, even as his cock throbbed dully. Steve tugged at him with his thumb, rubbed it gently over him, relaxing the muscle as he rubbed at it again and again, and then pushed his finger against the tight rim insistent but gentle until it slipped inside.

Tony caught his breath on a gasp, feeling it vividly as a tremor went through him, lancing hot through his cock, making it swell, throb against the smooth metal tight around it. He moaned, overwhelmed, bucked his hips up, then pushed them back on Steve’s finger, trying to be good, to take him deeper. Steve gripped his hip, squeezing, massaging his ass tightly with his other hand, and Tony gasped for air, got one hand down and rubbed instinctively at the metal encasing his cock, groaning. It was just a ghost of sensation, of warmth, but it took the feeling even higher, somehow, and Steve didn’t stop him, just murmured praise to him as he sank his finger even deeper inside, began to thrust it in and out, gentle and slow, stretching Tony inside with gentle circles and pushes of his knuckles, curling it, working it inside, each time. Tony was gasping, chest heaving, gulping with each breath, his mouth wet, gripping desperately at his cock, dragging his hand up and down the metal surface as Steve worked his finger inside him, before too long, feeling hot and overwhelmed and shivering with it, Steve’s finger soft and dragging against him inside in a way that left him feeling sensitive and hot around him already, close and clinging and tight, tender and throbbing at every touch, especially when Steve began to stroke his prostate and pleasure sparked hot and needy through Tony’s body, thrumming under his skin, with each sweet, hot pulse of slowly building pleasure as Steve rubbed at him. Tony was moaning, panting, already, as Steve worked in another finger, and his cock throbbed needily, twinged as it was constrained by the cage.

Eventually, he stopped rubbing at himself, feeling too overcome by the way Steve was stroking him inside, gently working him open, painting his inner walls with copious lube until he was shaking, just bracing himself against Steve’s chest and rocking his hips in soft, begging hitches up and down, helplessly, and panting. It felt so overwhelming like this, with his cock locked up, so much more intense, and all he could do was spread his legs and let Steve’s fingers work slickly in and out of him, rubbing him soft and open.

Steve worked him up to three fingers, kneading his ass with his hands as he did it, spreading his cheeks wide, tugging on his hole, then sinking his fingers in deep, twisting them gently, fucking them in and out in a slow, hot, wet rhythm against Tony’s prostate, until Tony was panting, and there were desperate, pathetic smears of his precome all over Steve’s belly where his caged cock kept rubbing, dripping and damp. Then Steve sank his three fingers deep, rubbing them along inside him, and got his other hand up, dragged Tony down into a kiss.

Tony kissed him eagerly, needy, opening his mouth and leaning into Steve, letting Steve push his tongue into his mouth, stroke it gently over his, filling his mouth up soft and wet and warm as Tony panted and trembled on his fingers and opened his mouth up for him, let him in, his cock aching, throbbing as he rocked back onto Steve’s fingers, up over his hips, against his chest.

Steve kissed him for a long time, fingers rubbing at the back of his neck, combing through his hair, kissing him deep and slow and hot and soft and gentle, fingers rubbing gently inside him the whole time, against his prostate, and when he pulled back Tony felt dizzy, sweaty and damp, hair falling forward into his eyes. He slumped against Steve’s chest, his cock really aching now as it struggled against the cage. He whined, moaned, trembling, rocked his hips back on Steve’s fingers, forward, not even certain of what he was doing, just that Steve’s fingers felt so good, the kisses he was pressing over his cheeks felt good, and his cock hurt, wanted to get hard, desperately wanted to get hard, he _needed_ to rub off on Steve, against his stomach, and the prickling need in his cock had nowhere to go, his breath practically sobbing in his throat.

Steve just squeezed the back of his neck, tugged on, stroked his hair, pulled on it gently, twining it around his fingers, rubbed over his shoulders, kissing his cheeks. “Shh,” he said, “shh, sweetheart, you’re all right. Just breathe deep, deep breaths, okay? That’s it. You’re good, you’re fine. Just settle into it. The way the cage is holding your cock, keeping it all nice and tight, that’s it. Just let it happen.”

Tony panted, trying to obey, and slowly his breaths slowed, something uncoiled inside him, and he felt a warm wave of slow soft easiness wash over him, the tightness in his belly smooth out, soften into something hot and liquid, the ache in his cock somehow settle into him, like it was part of him. He leaned his sweaty forehead against Steve’s shoulder, gasping. “Oh,” he managed. “S-Steve. Sunshine.”

“Doing good?” Steve murmured, and Tony nodded, his head spinning, his body throbbing, aching for something, needy and hot. He ground his hips down against Steve’s fingers, looked up at him questioningly. “You want me inside?” Steve murmured. His fingers petted at Tony’s cheek gently, slid over the back of his neck, petting through his hair, and squeezed. “You ready for that, mister?”

“Yeah,” Tony breathed, nodded. He swallowed, blinked, took a deep breath. “Yeah, ‘m ready.” It came out low and husky and thick.

Steve smiled, kissed his lips again, softly, and pulled his fingers out of Tony. They made a wet, squelching noise, and Tony immediately felt a hot flush travel over him from his head down over the back of his neck, feeling very aware of the cool wet feeling of his hole. He felt—open, ready for Steve’s cock, the way Steve liked him before he’d even consider putting it inside him, soft and open and dripping with lube. 

“Nudge on up,” Steve murmured, and Tony obeyed, put both hands on his shoulders, squeezed his knees tight against Steve’s sides and pushed himself up on thighs that wavered, felt strangely weak, hot and sweaty. His caged cock swung, heavy between his thighs, and he rocked on his knees, feeling it swing heavily from side to side, touch first one hot inner thigh, than the other. It felt so heavy. “Sink down on me, Tony, can you do that?” Steve murmured, and Tony nodded, reached back with one hand, searching for Steve’s cock until he found his warm thigh (firm with muscle, glowing with heat, smooth skin under his hand), and slid it over until he could find Steve’s hot, wet dick, wrap his hand around the wide girth of the base and guide it back toward his own wet hole. “That’s right,” Steve gasped, “that’s so good.” Tony smeared Steve’s blunt cockhead clumsily against his hole, and they both gasped, Tony moaned.

“Sorry,” he gasped.

“No,” Steve murmured, stroking his hair, “that’s all right, that’s fine, that’s just right—just there, Tony, just angle me a, a little—”

Steve held him open, then, kneading gently at his ass, and then his hand was there, helping to position himself, nudge his hot, blunt, searing cockhead along Tony’s crack with his fingers, and then he was pushing in, deep and slow, centering himself with his hand curved against his own cock, sucking gentle kisses against Tony’s neck, up and over his jaw, as he did.

Tony panted, gasping, feeling himself stretch, letting his hand fall to his side, and there was a moment of pushing back, Steve’s cockhead sliding over him once, twice, pushing in bluntly and his ass resisting, trembling, the rim opening, stretching, but not enough, and Tony had a breathless moment of sucking in air, wondering if he was open enough _yet_ , if he was still too goddamn tight, struggling to take in a deep breath, to blow it out, to relax, and then Steve was slipping into him, deep and quick and slick, over his soft wet insides, deep inside, and Tony was gasping as he opened up around him, as he sank down on top of him and Steve went deep in just one thrust, caught Tony’s hips, pulled out almost to the head and pushed in again, went deeper, then rocked, flexed his hips just once more, pulling himself out and dragging over Tony’s insides, pushing back in, and then he was letting Tony sink down over him again, he was fully sheathed inside him and Tony was moaning. He felt so _big_ , he always did, Tony was so full, so, so full, like he could hardly take it, Steve a hot, heavy weight filling him up entirely, until he felt like he could hardly breathe, and he was hardly aware of the metal weight encasing his cock over the intense push of it, the overwhelming fullness and pressure and heat and weight of Steve inside him, because it hardly mattered next to that (and the pain, the ache, of his constrained cock had eased, anyway, Tony knew he had gone soft when Steve pushed in; he almost always did).

Steve rubbed at the small of Tony’s back, stroked him up and down over his sides with both hands, rubbed at his shoulders, the back of his neck, squeezed there, then down again. “Good?” he mumbled, sucking another wet kiss at Tony’s neck, and damn, his voice had gone so low and deep, sex-rough, and Tony felt it in his gut as it squeezed tight with desire, trembled through his hips, his thighs.

“Yeah,” he managed to gasp out. “Oh, yeah.”

“Mmm,” Steve said. “Ride me a little? Work yourself on my cock, Tony.”

“Y-yeah,” Tony said, stuttering a little, gone breathless at the thought, at Steve _saying_ that, God, and then struggling to strain his thighs to push down, lift himself up so that he could sink back down over Steve’s dick again. His caged cock felt heavy, swaying between his legs.

The stretch was huge, overwhelming, just as overwhelming as it had been the first time, and he found himself gasping, moaning, trembling as he braced himself on Steve, as Steve filled him up. He rocked over Steve, panting, feeling him so thick and hot and full, pulsing inside him, heard his own harsh breaths in his own ears. He found himself rubbing his caged cock up against Steve’s belly, feeling the heaviness of it, the ghosts of warmth, of sensation, the tugs on the needy ache that was desperate for friction, for something more than he was getting, but was held at bay as his cock was kept soft and tight, even as he lifted himself up again, sank back down, and then he was falling into a rhythm, working himself on Steve’s dick, sliding up and down, idly rubbing his caged cock against Steve’s hard, muscular stomach the whole time, not really for the friction of it, just because it somehow felt good, right, the feeling of the pressure, the tugging, the metal on his cock warming from being pressed between them. Steve felt so big and thick and insistent inside him, heating him up from the inside out, sending pleasure shivering through him despite the initial overwhelming ache and discomfort and spread of the stretch, every time his big hot length shivered over that place inside, and Tony just—he found that soft place again, settled into it, working himself up and down on Steve’s big cock, arching his back to rub his caged cock idly, pointlessly, helplessly, up against Steve’s rigid abdomen, feeling his warmth on his cock only as the metal heated, panting, staring up at Steve, feeling like his eyes were starry and wet.

Steve was beautiful, so beautiful, flushed and staring down at Tony, eyes soft and hot and adoring, and Tony’s mouth was open, saliva drooling down into his goatee, he couldn’t quite swallow all of it back, but he couldn’t seem to care, just working himself, rubbing himself up and down on the big heavy cock inside him, feeling it hot and thick and demanding and yet soft on his needy, clinging insides, the pleasure soft and warm inside him, building with nowhere to go, yet he couldn’t seem to care. Steve’s hands traveled up and down his body, squeezed, kneaded at his ass, moved down and pulled his cheeks apart, rubbed at the rim of his hole where he was spread wide, rubbing in soft little coaxing circles there, and Tony just moaned, his mouth wet, and Steve said, “You’re doing good, Tony, so good, so, so good, sweetheart. That’s it, keep riding me, working me, just like that, that’s it. Atta boy.” And Tony just moaned, helplessly, the warmth of the praise spreading through him, glowing all through his body, in the tight clench of his body, and worked himself even harder.

Tony felt like he had done that for a long time—his thighs were trembling as Steve stroked them, gently, up and down, murmuring breathless praise, rubbing at his thighs, at the backs of his knees where he knelt, up over his ass—but it was like he’d lost his sense of time, like it had ceased to matter, because it wasn’t like he was going to get hard, wasn't like he was going to come. There was just him and Steve’s cock inside him, and Steve hadn’t come yet, that was all he knew, really. So actually it couldn’t have been that long, because Steve never took all that long to come the first time, but it felt like a long time, and Tony’s breath was burning in his throat as he panted, when Steve cupped his hands against Tony’s ass and squeezed, stilling him on his cock.

“Hey,” Steve said, and smiled up at him, breathlessly. Tony smiled back, couldn’t help it, feeling hot and floaty, breathless himself. Steve slid a hand up Tony’s sweaty back, stroked gently, coaxed him forward, and then Tony was pressing into him, his caged cock hard and pressing into Steve’s firm stomach between them. “Shh,” Steve said, let Tony gasp out a breath, let his head slump down onto his shoulder, his shoulders rounding in order to do it, and Tony had a brief thought that that was absolutely horrible posture, but Steve was kissing his hair and he didn’t care. “Let me take over, sweetheart, you relax.”

“Okay,” Tony whispered, and did, he obeyed, just went loose all through his muscles, his body, soft and relaxed. He wasn’t sure if it was because it was what Steve had told him to do, and he felt so—so obedient, sweet and soft and wanting, like this, or because of the wonderful way Steve was rubbing his back, or just that he was already tired and felt so floaty, but he felt himself relaxing, the tightness just ebbing out of him as Steve spread his legs for him gently, hands on his thighs, pushed Tony’s knees up along his sides, then gently, slowly took over thrusting, rolling up easy and deep into Tony’s body, all soft, slow, deep pleasure that settled in his gut, made his caged cock ache, but more than that, too, spread through Tony’s whole body. Tony let his eyes closed, just let himself lie there against Steve, his hands loose against his shoulders, draped one arm around the back of Steve’s shoulders and hugged tight and just let himself feel it, Steve deep inside him, his heavy weight, each deep, easy thrust, the pleasure it sent rubbing, dancing along his prostate, warm in his body. Steve was stroking the back of his neck with one hand now, squeezing, massaging, and it felt so good, it felt perfect, made Tony twist his hips and rub his caged cock up against Steve again, not chasing anything, just feeling it, reveling in it, the deep thrusting pressure of Steve’s cock inside him.

It didn’t take all that much more time before Steve was coming, pulsing and hot and throbbing inside of Tony’s hole, filling him up with more wet heat. He jerked his hips back and forth, rode out his orgasm, making Tony moan and shiver at the sensations that filled him, and then they just lay there, together. Steve didn’t move to pull out, and Tony still against him, just relishing the ache, the weight, of the metal around his cock, his tight, needy balls, the quiet ache and pleasure thrumming through his entire body, soft and low. It felt even better as Steve rubbed the back of his neck, down over his shoulders, his back, slowly stroking him with both hands, tilting his head down, pressing a kiss to Tony’s forehead, kneading at his ass with one hand as he stroked him, big warm hands sliding over his entire body, like they were luxuriating in Tony’s skin. “Mmm,” Steve said. “So good. You feel so good inside. So velvety and hot and tight, your tight little rear clamps down on me so perfect.”

Tony made a sound, self-conscious, tilted his head down.

“No, it’s true,” Steve said, deep and sex-rough, raspy and honest. “Gosh, look at you, you’re so beautiful, you’re so lovely like this, Tony. You love this, don’t you? Cock all trussed up for me, sweet and obedient and perfect, with me inside you, filling you up. You love having your cock all locked up for me, giving me your pleasure like that, oh, sweetheart, oh, thank you. You love it, you’re so lovely like this, so sweet. Just look at you.”

Tony’s face was burning, but Steve’s big strong, warm hand was rubbing at the back of his neck, so sweetly and perfectly, and he felt so soft and warm and relaxed, Steve still deep inside him. He felt sweet, relaxed, easy. He let Steve stroke him, praise him. _You’re so good_ , Steve said, over and over again, _so good, Tony_ , and it felt so good, he just let it settle inside him, warm him up from the inside out, tighten and throb in his chest until it felt tender with the sweet warm wonderful ache those words made him feel, all soft and loose and warm and liquid in his belly. Steve was stroking his hair, gently, hand sliding, tugging through the thick, curling strands, dragging heavy and firm over the curve of Tony’s skull, and Tony breathed out a long, deep breath, relaxed into the pleasure. It felt so good, Steve just rubbing and stroking the back of his neck, through his hair. “You’re so good,” Steve said, again, and Tony felt himself go hot, the heat sinking in deep over his ears, the back of his neck, shivered and pressed in tighter against him. “You’re so perfect,” Steve said, “just look at you, you’re so sweet for me, God, you love this.”

Tony nodded, unsteadily, and Steve just rubbed at the back of his neck some more, squeezed and massaged, and he felt so good, damn, he felt so good, it felt right, even his aching cock in its cage, the metal warm now from their bodies, felt right. He didn’t want to come; he wanted to lie here against Steve, soft and relaxed, and enjoy this soft, sweet, easy ache, maybe, after a while, slide off Steve’s cock and clean up and blow him before bed, if Steve let him. If Steve wanted him to.

“How was that?” Steve asked, then, still massaging the back of Tony’s neck, gently. “Okay?”

“So good,” Tony hastened to assure him, lifting his head just slightly. “So, so good, Steve. It was everything I wanted.” It felt so good to have Steve using him when he was like this, felt locked up and contained and ready to be used for Steve’s pleasure, to have Steve come inside him, down his throat, in his ass. It felt so good to have that pleasure of Steve fucking him, slow and soft.

Steve just smiled at him, and the expression was so—so soft, so warm, so damn loving, like it made him feel a little overcome, a little choked up, just to _look_ at Tony, and Tony had to close his eyes, take a deep breath, as his big hand curved around Tony’s cheek, rubbed at his chin, the hinge of his jaw, and he said, “Okay, good, that’s good.” His fingers brushed softly, gently, over Tony’s mouth, and he said, “Thank you, Tony, sweetheart. I really mean it.”

Tony opened his eyes and smiled at him. “No,” he said. “Thank you.” And he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips.

They lay there for a long time, Steve still inside him, Steve’s warm hands sliding over Tony’s back, his shoulders, rubbing at his ass, caressing and squeezing, rubbing at the back of his neck, and Tony just felt like warm, relaxed melted putty, epoxy that hadn’t set, the liquid polymers he’d been working on lately, until finally Steve coaxed him up off his cock, practically carried him into the bathroom, and they cleaned up, Steve’s hands so gentle as they unfastened the cock cage, cleaned Tony up, caressing him gently, before he locked it back on and Tony let out a satisfied sigh, playing idly with the little lock.

He got to blow Steve in the shower, and by the time they were falling into bed, Tony still in the cage, he felt so—so relaxed, so easy, so warm and soft and good. He rolled over, pressed the cage against Steve’s thigh through his soft pajamas, his boxers, pushed his face into Steve’s chest, nosing against the key on its chain around Steve’s neck, against his dogtags, though his shirt, and sighed. “Good night, sweetheart,” he mumbled. “Thank you.”

“No, no,” Steve murmured, hand coming up and traveling softly through his damp hair. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. That was amazing. You’re amazing. Thank you.”

“Can’t wait to see what we do tomorrow,” Tony murmured. Maybe Steve would want Tony to fuck him in the cage. Maybe he would come into Tony’s office in the mansion while he was working and take him over his desk; he’d done that before while Tony was in chastity. He couldn’t wait, either way. He loved the floaty, relaxed, easiness he got when his cock was locked up, not chasing an orgasm, not fighting with his body and himself to come, not worrying about coming too soon or too late, the way it took the pressure off, the way it made him feel loose and easy and good about focusing on Steve, about letting Steve focus on him. It was going to be a good rest of the week.

Steve smiled against his forehead. “Mmhmm,” he said, curling his fingers in Tony’s hair and tugging lightly. “Tomorrow.”

“Yep,” Tony breathed, and buried his face in Steve’s chest. “You’re so good at this, babe.”

“I do my best,” Steve said, softly, fingertips rubbing at Tony’s scalp.

But he really was the best. He was. He seemed to know just what Tony wanted from this, just … gave it to him, no questions asked, even as Tony did his best to serve him. It was so perfect, every time they played like this. Tony had only had to give a stumbling, awkward explanation of why he liked this, why he even wanted his cock locked up sometimes, once. It was like Steve just … got it. Tony sighed, pressed close, gave Steve a hug with one arm around his back as he pressed up against him, and Steve smiled against his forehead, almost shy, Tony could feel it, nuzzling sleepily closer, breath warm and damp against Tony’s temple. Tony wanted to tell him that, how good he was, how he was the best, the best Tony could have ever asked for, but he wasn’t sure how to say it without sounding—without sounding needy, or stupid, or just weird, so he figured he’d wait until tomorrow, because Steve deserved to hear it from him, but he was so, so sleepy, and he couldn’t think how to say it, and he just felt so good and tired and relaxed and exhausted, couldn’t think at all.

And Steve stroked his hair until Tony fell asleep. If that didn’t prove he was the best, Tony thought, his last conscious thought before sleep took him, nothing would.


End file.
